When you're Gone
by No one you should know
Summary: OneShot. - Ruffnut staggered through the mist that closed in on her. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.


**Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD**

Ruffnut whipped her head around, only to see a flash of red.

Red.

Crimson red.

Red like blood.

She could smell the foul scent in the air as it lingered above her. Who was hurt?

She began to slowly and steadily move around in the thick fog, trying to make out the person.

The fog irritated her. It was everywhere, dimmed light and sound and played tricks with her mind. Once she heard heavy stomping steps, a dragging noise and claws clicking against rocks, closing on to her from all around. She thought she saw a dark shadow disappear into the fog, but as she turned around she saw none of it. Another time she assumed she heard heavy breathing, rasping and choking, but then it was gone. Her eyes and ears were playing tricks on her, and she didn't like it. Not at all.

Ruffnut walked around in the mists which surrounded her like cloths and laid tiny pearls of water on her hair and body.

She wandered aimlessly about in the fog, almost certain that she was moving in circles, just trying to find her way out of it. She didn't care about the shadows anymore, not about the hurt person, she just wanted to get out of here. The thick condensations were scaring her far beyond her comfort.

Things only got worse when she heard a small splash and felt something wet around her left foot, causing her too look down. As the tough Viking she was, Ruffnut was accustomed to blood, but the sight of the pool red liquid sagging into her right boot, still warm and runny, gave her the last bit.

The girl ran off into a random direction, wanting to get out of the fog, to get the blood out of her boot and most of all to cover her ears from the screams that were now echoing all around her. She didn't know if it was her who screamed, but the sound came from everywhere, haunting her and causing her to run faster.

It was just like the nightmare she kept having since she was little. The fog, the screams, the shadows and the lake of blood. All just like in her nightmare. But this time it was real. This time there was no waking up, no hugs from her brother, no warm fireplace to flee to. Just the fog and her will to get out of it. This nightmare was becoming reality.

Running on, the Viking realized that this part was "unknown territory", the part of the dream she never slept to see. Before, she was glad, but now it gave her discomfort and a sick feeling in her guts. The main terror was over, and her head had calmed down more or less. Regardlessly, she kept running on, figuring that if she ran long enough, she would eventually get out of this. Unless she ran in circles. Which was pretty much the feeling she was starting to get.

Ruffnut lost track of how long she was running when a slow howl reached her ears.

Strangely hypnotized and attracted, the young Viking woman found herself following hear ears through the mists.

It took the young Viking only a short time to reach a dark figure.

She could only see wavering shadows, but the shadows were howling, and Ruffnut was certain this was what she had been looking for.

Cold fear settled deeply in her stomach as she crept closer, closer and closer. The smell of blood hit her nostrils like a shockwave and sent chills down her spine the nearer she came. The howling was now similar to the sound she heard when a fox was caught in one of her traps. Terribly high pitched, scaring and sad. The type of a sound a wicked animal would give if it was, despite its wits, desperate from loss or fear. The sad howl of a killer.

She knew she had heard it before.

She'd sometimes hear softer or friendlier or happier cries around Berk.

This cry, no, howl, was too extreme.

Ruffnut's left boot was still uncomfortably moist from the blood she stepped into, and felt soggy and heavy. Her hair was sprayed with tiny water drops, so were her clothes. Even though she was wearing all of her cloths and furs, the howl and the mist made her feel uncomfortably naked and exposed.

Ruffnut Thorston didn't like this feeling.

After what seemed like an age of slowly making her way to the dark, howling shadow, Ruffnut suddenly dove out of the fog.

The Viking couldn't believe her eyes at first, nor her other senses.

_Thank Thor_, she thought, _that he brought me out of there._

The sensation only lasted a moment, until Ruffnut returned to reality.

Reality was cruel.

Hopeless.

Terrible.

A nightmare far worse than her usual.

In fact, this was far too terrible to even closely fit into the term "normal".

She barely registered the species of dragon before her, only that it was about the size of BarfBelch and was some shade of red.

What got her was a figure that, surrounded by a great pool of blood, lay at the feet of the dragon. And five arrows that stuck deep in the figure's chest.

Ruffnut could not remember the rest.

Whenever she tried to remember who she was, or what she was doing, two words took over her mind, controlled it and made her forget everything else in all the nine realms.

_He's gone... He's gone... He's gone..._

_He's never coming back..._

_It's over..._

That was her new reality.

The new statement she had to live with.

Ruffnut did not remember what time it was, or how long she had been sobbing mindlessly into the dark fur, or spilling tears over a face she grew custom to through all of her life, but it had been time enough to wear her out.

She had already forgotten how many tears she had spilled onto the cold cheeks of the person that used to be at her side all the time, most of the time, and which she had grown to love.

After some time, though she had no idea of how long it was, Ruffnut stood up. She looked at the dragon, and it looked at her, no words needed.

She stretched out her hand to the female dragon, and the fire-red dragon met her hand with her snout, signaling the girl Viking to ride her. Ruffnut was already surprised, now that she thought about it, that the dragon let her even touch its rider. Usually it was overly fond of and completely loyal to him.

"Come on, girl" Ruffnut said as the dragon picked up its dead rider and allowed Ruffnut to fly it over into the clouds and towards Berk.

The Viking sadly took in the sights as she flew over the islands.

So much destruction. The battle had been terrible. She could see shattered pieces of wood floating around the see, still burning, which had once formed roman or outcast ships.

She could see the massive construction of soil that made up the grave of Frostbite, which had been killed in the crossfire and brutally wounded.

Ruffnut also thought she could make out a smaller pile of rocks next to it, which would be Hookfang's grave. The dragon had died during a cave-in an enemy thunderdrum had caused.

There, on the same hill, would Spitfire's grave be. And Him. Yes, He wanted to be buried on that hill too. And that would mean Spitfire would make them bury her as well. Crazy, loyal, brave, suicidal dragon.

Just like the rest, just like Him.

As Berk came into view, Ruffnut gasped. Berk was completely destroyed. Almost every house was shattered or at least on fire, which made the scene look even worse than the biggest dragon raid Berk had ever experienced.

Only pieces of charred coal were left of His house, and hers had giant holes everywhere and was looking like it was about to collapse. Berk had a lot of work to do.

Ruffnut saw Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Astrid and Hiccup stand by the dock, or at least, what was left of it. Ruffnut took a moment to analyze all of her friends.

Tuffnut's dreadlocks were splattered with blood and he had a bandage on his left arm, but, except for a few cuts and bruises, seemed fine.

Astrid had lost her axe somewhere and smelled a cit like a burned rat, which was understandable, since she had helped with the fire.

Our of the same reason Fishlegs had lost a bit of the "facial hair he grew for her*".

Hiccup had all of his limbs, well, if you count his prosthetic leg, which calmed Ruffnut for starters. Even though "all dragons were his friends**", that motto didn't save him from enemy dragons.

Snotlout had multiple cuts on his arms and shoulders, which added to the scars on his face. The two claw marks on his left jaw were now joined by a fresh cut straight over the right eye, much like his father's. His helmet and clothes had a few big and many small burns from the battle and from riding his dragon while it was doing its spinning-fire thingy, which made him look the worst out of all of them, which was probably also due to the...Oh, right.

Ruffnut landed Spitfire and made her present her rider to the rest of the gang.

Hiccup immediately hurried over to the huddled figure, and she didn't see the rest of it, since she was met by her brother's arms. She lost track of the amount of time she wept herself out into her brother's shoulder, just until the time she heard a sharp exclamation coming from Hiccup's direction.

Ruffnut turned around to be met by Hiccup's green eyes examining her angrily.

"Hi-Hiccup, it wasn't my fault Snotlout died, I swear, I just-"

"Ruffnut. Did you consider checking his pulse?"

* * *

* Reference to How To Train Your Dragon 2: -Snotlout: But baby I grew facial hair for you! -Fishlegs: Me too...

** Reference to the TV series, episode 'Free Scauldy': (the stupid Hiccup impression) -Ruffnut: My leg fell off! All dragons are my friends!


End file.
